


Moran's Travel Blog - Sweden

by Colonel_Moriarty



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, Travel Blog Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 04:43:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13427052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colonel_Moriarty/pseuds/Colonel_Moriarty
Summary: Jim And Seb travel together again. This time they're headed to Sweden. Of course as expected hijinks ensue while Sebastian tries to keep his employer and partner in crime safe. As expected Jim doesn't make it easy for him. But where would be the fun in that?





	1. Chapter 1

Monday, 19th June

 

Jim is preparing another business trip. Could also be another worcation, hell if I know. It’s all the same to me either way. I’m feeling tempted not to ask this time where we’re going because blissful ignorance might keep me from blowing my lid early. On the other hand it would mean to walk into possible danger -or at least trouble- unguarded so I do ask after all. Jim doesn’t even look up from his luggage as he decides which tie to choose for his grey suit. Oh sorry, of course the suit isn’t grey, it’s anchor colored. I think he did catch me roll my eyes but for now he just informs me that we’re headed to Sweden.  
*  
Since I don’t know anything about Sweden besides the fact they have lots of forests and lakes and moose I decide to google for a bit more information about the country. It can never hurt seeing how Jim likes to do things a normal person (me) would consider dangerous or at least risky. Not that I can ever stop him from doing these things. We are both aware of course that he does them to fuck with me.  
*  
So it’s the country where they dance around the penis tree and quack. And drink a lot while doing so. I think I might have found either my dream country or my worst nightmare. Not sure yet.  
*  
As I tell Jim about my research results he just stares at me as if I finally lost it so I present him with some of the videos I found on YouTube depicting the event I just described to him. He somehow manages not to change expression at all then calls me an uncultured moron and that the event I was referring to is called Midsommar and if I ever describe it in such terms again he’ll have me dance and quack but not around said penistree.  
*  
I think I found a word I can use to truly annoy Jim for once. Oh joyful day.  
*  
Jim just informed me that if I ever use the word ‘penistree’ again he’ll use my best bits as a Christmas Tree this year. I think I should stop while I can but Jim’s annoyed expression is just too delicious. Can you tell how desperate I am?  
*  
Trees of all shapes and forms aside- we’re heading to Sweden for business. Jim scheduled a meeting with some of the higher ups in a company called Bofors. For once I don’t have to google them. I know they sell all sorts of military gear. This could become an interesting trip for me. Maybe I can get him to buy me one of those AK-5s.  
*  
When I ask Jim about the possibility of getting a new toy for my collection he informs me that he already has a nice reward planned for me. Now I’m all nervous as we head for Heathrow. I will most likely spend the trip working on my will. Jim tells me I shouldn’t be exaggerating and make a mountain out of a molehill. After what I had to go through during our last four trips though I think I deserve that much leeway to not trust him in the least.  
*  
We arrived at the airport. Jim is typing away on his laptop.  
*  
We are seated in the plane, first class as usual. Jim is typing away on his laptop.  
*  
We’re up in the air. I am trying to enjoy the free drinks. Jim is typing away on his laptop.  
*  
We’re approaching Stockholm. Jim is /still/ typing away on his laptop! For fuck’s sake, he’s driving me crazy! I know he’s up to something! I just know it! What will he do this time? Make the captain do a barrel roll before we land? Make a fake announcement that everybody has to leave the plane because it is burning? Have me jump out with a parachute? What is it going to be? My patience is wearing dangerously thin!  
*  
We landed. Nothing happened. We went through customs and Jim didn’t make a fuss at all. He just smiled at the security staff and waved good bye as we left and we’re now heading to the exit to grab a cab ride into town.  
*  
Jim tells me that I am way too tense and that I should relax. On top of that he’s smiling ear to ear, the little smug fucker. He did this on purpose. Or rather, he did /nothing/ on purpose. One of these days I’ll strangle him.  
*  
We’re staying at Hotel Diplomat. Usually I’d say that all hotels are the same but I must say that this one has a really amazing view over the city and the sea. I guess that’s the reason why Jim picked the Deluxe Sea view rooms. I had expected him to pick a suite but he tells me it wasn’t worth it for the little time we’re staying in Stockholm. He didn’t say though when we’re heading back home again, sending me that lovely sensation of dread about his future plans. After all he did mention I’d get a surprise. I really wish the beautiful view had been the surprise. Maybe it’ll help if I just jump into the ocean from up here?  
*  
Jim says I should stop acting like a big baby and help him unpack his luggage. And since I’m a good bodyguard, sniper, butler, whatever, I do as told because otherwise he’d whine to me about the creases his suits have gotten. It turns out Jim also chose this particular hotel because it offers Afternoon Tea.

How very British. I had no idea that my boss was so eager on having his finger sandwiches and warm scones. Usually he just has a coffee around that time and maybe some crisps. Jim must have caught the incredulous expression on my face because he tells me that I obviously have no ‘savoir vivre’. I told him I survived fine so far so why is he complaining? He just rolled his eyes at me and called me a plebeian.  
*  
We’re not having Afternoon Tea yet though because it is just shortly after lunch time and Jim decided it is just the right time for a sightseeing tour. I know what that means for me- Jim will enter ever souvenir shop and buy a ridiculous amount of things neither of us needs and have me carry them. It could be worse though. The client meeting is tomorrow because Jim prefers to be ‘well rested’ which means we’ll spend the entire day roaming town.  
*  
We made it to the old part of town aptly named Gamla Stan in Swedish- which basically means the same as old town. Clever those Swedes. Jim is already hooked and I lost count on how many of the small shops we’ve been in by now. I just know that Jim got me some gifts too which consist of a pair of fuzzy old fashioned slippers- the kind filled with lamb wool- a hat with ear flaps- also filled with lamb wool- and a wooden knife shaped item that the Swedes obviously use to spread butter on their bread. Now I dread that Jim expects me to wear the slippers and cap while I’m out on a job in winter because he wants me to stay warm.  
*  
I was so wrong. Jim wants me to wear the hat right away.  
*  
Bloody hell! It’s 26 degrees and sunny and I’m wearing a damn wool filled ear flap hat! Even the tourists stare at me as if I’m one of the crazy people! I really can feel with Holmes now when he got that butt ugly deerstalker.  
*  
Jim found a candy shop which sells a typically Swedish delicacy called ‘Polkagris’. It reminds me a lot of those mint candy canes we have for Christmas just to find out that it is basically that without the hooked part. Jim buys one of every flavor and seeing how there are dozens I am loaded with yet another bag to carry while Jim chooses one to lick seductively while we continue our little tour de force. And when I say seductively I do mean it because I swear he keeps deepthroating that damn thing to fuck with me.

Unfortunately it works.  
*  
We made it into a tiny ice cream shop which sells a whopping 52 different kinds of ice cream. I’m no longer surprised when Jim tells me that Sweden is in the top ten concerning the amount of ice cream consumed per head per year. I still only want two scoops or else I might get sick. And I’ve never been that much of a fan of ice cream.

Of course Jim “gently nudges” me to take at least one scoop of Tiger Cola ice cream- whatever the hell that is. He goes for Polkagris and something called Hallon Saltlakrits. I have a bad feeling about this combination.  
*  
Turns out that Tiger Cola really tastes like cola. And the tiger part simply comes from the striped look the ice cream has. And Hallon Saltlakrits turns out to be raspberry and licorice and I think I might have thrown up a little in my mouth as Jim informs me about it. For the first time I can see him struggling to finish his ice cream but he braves it with the expression of a wounded soldier dragging himself across the battle field. He’ll be so sick later.  
*  
Jim doesn’t look so good when we return to the hotel to drop our bags and head downstairs for our Afternoon Tea. After a nice hot cuppa he seems better though which is good since we’ll meet with the executive from Bofors tomorrow and Jim wants to visit the castle to see the crown jewels. He’s really excited about that. I’m not that big on tea but Jim won’t let me have a beer so I annoy him by stretching his pinkie finger out and talking in a fake posh British accent that makes him kick my shin under the table. Trying to eat finger sandwiches daintily is not as easy as it sounds so he should give me credit for that.  
*  
The evening is spent with a boat tour across the sea that runs through Stockholm like a large river and we have an excellent dinner with salmon and wine. For once I am close to admitting that traveling with Jim isn’t that terrible after all but I won’t say it out loud until we’re safe and sound on our way back home. For now I indulge in watching the man sleep next to me, looking like a content little baby.


	2. Moran's Travel Blog - Sweden Part 2

Tuesday, 20th June

Jim woke up in a good mood after a night of restful sleep. Which means that I shouldn’t have too much to worry about today, right?

*

A man can hope.

*

But to be fair, he didn’t really do anything dangerous or particularly annoying yet. The little hat episode yesterday was nothing I can’t handle and Jim punished himself by eating this horrible mixture of ice cream flavours so I’m all calm as well for now. 

*

Breakfast is uneventful though I’m glad they do not just serve Swedish delicacies as I heard that Swedes like to put a spread of caviar cream on their flat round pancake shaped bread. And while I don’t mind caviar it isn’t the first thing in the morning I’m feeling for. For Jim the first thing in the morning is coffee either way and he doesn’t function fully until he’s almost through his first cup.

*

Today however he’s already brimming with energy even before he took a single sip, nibbling on a buttered croissant covered in jam. Hm. Is that a good or a bad sign now? Since we’re meeting a client in an hour I guess he’s just in a really ecstatic mood. And for once I share his feelings since I’m still hoping to get my hands on some new rifle prototype or the like with Jim’s help.

*

Maybe I looked too hopeful though because Jim just gave me an almost pitiful glance and declared I was looking like a hungry dog sitting in front of the window of a butcher’s shop. Such nice mental images my boss is able to paint.

*

The meeting with the representative of Bofors takes place in a lavishly furbished office in Drottninggatan. Göran Swensson is a man in his early fifties with a nicely sized belly which he is desperately trying to hide under his tailor made suit. Though one glance from Jim and I know he’d come to the devastating conclusion that the man’s tailor wasn’t worth the money he most likely had paid him for this ensemble.

*

I do not sit down on the offered seat because I like to appear even more intimidating than I already am. Jim calls it my ‘body guard mode’. It works though as Swensson cuts the small talk and comes right down to business. I know these kinds of meetings and talks. It’s the old 'moving pawns and greasing palms’ sort of business. Shady weapon deals and all that. And since Bofors isn’t interested in another scandal…

*

Jim takes control of the talk with practised ease and in the end Mr. Swensson agrees to all terms and conditions my employer has set up, sweating like he had been running a marathon. I can’t blame him though. When confronted with the kind of look and smile only Moriarty is capable of, one doesn’t think twice whether to agree with him or not.

*

I do not need to look at Jim’s to know he’s very pleased with himself. I can already tell it from the way he’s walking out of the building. I’m just glad he’s satisfied which means it is less likely that he’ll be up to 'no good’ as some (I) would put it. Or as I would call it 'trying to drive his sniper crazy so we suffer together’.

*

Since business is concluded and it isn’t time yet for my BIG surprise, Jim decided that we have enough time for more sightseeing. So we head to the Royal Palace to not only take a gander at the building and watch the change of the guards but also to see…the crown jewels. I should have known it. But this time Jim isn’t wearing his tourist outfit or listening to 'La Gazza Ladra’ so the Swedish Regalia should be safe. I still remember how disappointed he was in France.

*

Turns out Jim is almost as disappointed this time also. Though I don’t agree with him. I find the Swedish crown jewels appropriate enough. A bit less gaudy and over the top. But hey, Jim being disappointed means he’s not going to try anything funny like…ahem…”borrowing” them. He tells me though that he’ll send the Royal Family some money to help them with their funds to buy something more regal looking. I might have snorted at that because Jim glares at me as if I dared to make fun of Vivienne Westwood or his beloved detective.

*

Next stop on our sightseeing tour after a quick but delicious lunch is some sort of large park like area called Skansen. I would have preferred to go to the nearby amusement park Gröna Lund but Jim isn’t exactly fond of roller coaster rides. So instead of the man clinging to me as we are thrown left and right on the tracks and even end up upside down I’m wandering with him through an immense park area filled with houses made to look like they are hundreds of years old, farm animals and a small zoo area near the entrance. Joy.

*

Did Jim carry the big paper bag already earlier or did he pick it up somewhere? I wonder what is inside it.

*

I shouldn’t have wished to know. But then, Jim would have showed me either way. He shoves me behind a building and pushes the bag into my arms and tells me to 'get changed, chop chop’.

*

I do get changed. I now look like a Swedish farmer from the 1800s. When Jim is asked what this all is about (granted, I used words that sounded a little less polite), he merely informs me that he wanted me to 'blend in’. The stare of utter disbelief I’m giving him is completely mistaken as me being too dumb to understand Jim’s genius. Or rather, his madness in this case.

*

So I did blend in. I blended in so well in fact that Jim couldn’t find me any more and ended up yelling my name. He sounded almost adorable. Like a mother shouting for her beloved lost son. Unfortunately that lovely imagery is dispelled brutally when Jim curses up a storm and threatens to cause me a multitude of discomforting scenarios. I give it another five minutes, then change back and show myself again. Jim is still upset when we walk into the zoo.

*

Once we’re through the entrance we end up in an open, yet fenced area with a bunch of very curious lemurs watching our every step. Jim stops being upset when the first critter ends up scooting closer to him. Instead of being upset he looks mildly concerned that it could scratch up his shoes or leave dirty fingerprints on his trousers. The first lemur couldn’t be convinced to leave Jim alone even with all the shooing gestures the man is making. Instead the creature is joined by more of its clan. Two minutes later Jim is surrounded by a good dozen of them and I’m still not sure whether to laugh or worry.

*

Jim’s shooing turned into arm flailing as they all suddenly start to jump at him and climb his legs and arms, tiny hands searching every inch of his outfit. Unfortunately it looks just too hilarious to not laugh at his misery. Which means I will regret it later. On the other hand I do come to his rescue and with some loud shouting and hand clapping and growling I cause them to scatter, as they leave behind a rugged and ruffled consulting criminal.

*

As they keep following Jim -who hurries towards the exit, trying to look as dignified as a man can when fleeing from a bunch of lemurs- I ask him about his choice of perfume just to be called an uncultured oaf for not recognizing his Creed Aventus perfume. I don’t dare to point out that Jim most likely smelled like a big fruit buffet to these creatures.

*

Luckily Jim calms down again by the time we reach the other animals and when we near the exit he tries to get his revenge by daring me to pet the tarantula they have on display there. I’m not really a big fan of the creepy crawlies but luckily I’m not terrified of arachnids either.

*

So my day ended with me petting a large fuzzy haired tarantula. Her name was Imse. Let’s see what tomorrow has in store for me. I almost dread my 'reward’. Jim muttered something about a boat. Maybe he thinks about leaving me stranded on one of the many small islands in front of Stockholm.

*

Should that be the case the photo I took of him being swarmed by lemurs will find its way to the detective.


	3. Moran's Travel Blog - Sweden Part 3

Wednesday, 21st June

Today is the day of my big surprise. Why I keep bringing this up again? Because Jim keeps bringing it up. And kept bringing it up most of the night. So unfortunately my lack of sleep wasn’t caused by shenanigans (God I wish!) but by Jim creeping closer like that girl from the Ring and whispering ‘seven hours’ or 'soon’ or 'aren’t you getting excited, 'Bastian?’ into my ear. Try to get some shut eye then, I wish you good luck attempting it.

*

This morning it was me who needed a big strong cup of coffee before I was decently awake to actually listen to Jim who’s been talking non stop since we got up. He’s still talking between bites of toast and sips from his orange juice. I must have stared at his mouth as it opens and closes and opens and closes and opens and closes…because Jim is suddenly snapping his fingers in front of my face and I declare I’m ready just to find out that he talked about our client meeting yesterday and not about whatever he has planned to 'reward’ me.

*

We finally leave the hotel and head down to the harbour where Jim shows off the boat he rented for us, telling me in detail how fast it can go. He didn’t even bother to ask me if I can move such a vessel but luckily I do have a permit so we’re good to go. It’s odd but I have the feeling I might not see Stockholm for a while and the thought from yesterday pops back into my head. What if he really plans on abandoning me on some deserted tiny island near the Swedish coastline? He could wait until I’m butt naked in the water, then steal my clothes, run off and sail away with the boat. Why I’m so certain about this you ask?

*

He’s done it before.

*

But then as his loyal employee (babysitter, butler, cook, etc.) I ought to trust him, right? So I do and we leave Stockholm and take a scenic route alone the coastline towards unknown -to me at least- territory. Though I am aware that Jim has everything planned out and will eventually let me in on his big plans. I hope.

*

Jim directs me to a little beach like area after a few hours during which he was sunbathing on deck, all decked out in sun lotion, wearing his favourite designer sunglasses and besides them nothing but a pair of very small, very tight fitting bathing trunks. I’d more refer to them as a bathing thong but there are things you do not point out around your boss because he will then claim you’re a perv and have been staring at his arse all the time. Which I couldn’t even deny. Unfortunately the end of the travel means Jim gets dressed again and I mourn -quietly- the loss of such a glorious sight.

*

When Jim returns I understand what the big surprise is. Not only because he’s sporting the kind of outfit he’d never been seen in -unless dead as he claims- which means that it is functional, not elegant in the least and for outdoors use only. But also because he’s carrying a large backpack. Although large might be the wrong word to use here as the one meant for me is at least twice the size and most likely weighs five times more. But it is large in comparison to Jim’s size and weight which I won’t mention as he struggles to look like Bear Grylls- if Bear Grylls was more like Ground hog Grylls.

*

So my big big surprise is a camping slash hunting trip and I must say I am duly surprised because Jim hates both with the same passion he hates only a few things in life. And it is a pleasant surprise, I’ll admit that much. So we leave the boat behind after securing it and head into the Swedish wilderness. Seeing how there are moose, wolves and bears in Sweden it is fair to say that this should bring some excitement at least. I am incredibly pleased to find one of my favourite hunting rifles in an extra bag attached to my backpack. And I too have changed into the right sort of outfit so I feel ready to tackle whatever the woods might throw at us. I still can’t believe Jim came up with this.

*

I now can believe Jim came up with this. He didn’t take a map along. Or anything to guide the way. With the way he was walking up ahead for the first three hours I believed he had some form of navigation ready. Turns out he didn’t. All he did was to trust his mobile navigation system. Which turns out to no longer work. Because we just lost signal. Did Jim tell me so right away? Oh no, of course not. Instead he pointed into a random direction and had me take the lead while he was frantically trying to get his signal back and hide said attempt whenever I turned my head to him. It’s been now five hours since we left the beach. Jim claims to be tired and hungry, which I believe. He also just now confessed the truth to me and I do have a strong urge to stuff him into the sleeping bag I’m carrying and string him up head down to the nearest tree.

*

I still can’t believe how nonchalant Jim is acting about this bullshit he pulled on us. He’s even pouting when I tell him that this move of his was pretty moronic. At least he brought some food along. Some Swedish crispbread, some cookies and some canned goods. Since I got my knife and rifle I can go hunting and I’m sure there might be a body of water somewhere where I can try my skills at fishing.

*

I have no idea what 'surströmming’ is but Jim tells me it’s some sort of canned herring. Though I do wonder why the can I just took out looks so bloated.

*

Of course Jim wouldn’t bring a can opener. If I didn’t know better I’d bet he did that on purpose to make things more inconvenient for me. I guess my knife has to do.

*

He did that on purpose, that little evil fucker!

*

One stab into that god damn tin and I’m being sprayed with the most VILE of fermented fish fluids and my nostrils are hit by a stench that I swear could make a man black out or throw up. Jim almost does the latter and sits even further away -I still can’t believe I didn’t notice his distance to the can of Satan’s diarrhea earlier- while I’m standing there like frozen, dry heaving and fighting back the urge to fling the stabbed can at the man who is sitting there and giggling impishly. Even if it were just a few drops my clothing /reeks/.

*

Jim only brought surströmming. TEN CANS OF FUCKING ROTTEN FISH!

*

Seems we have to make due with crispbread and cookies for now. Of course Jim is complaining that I’m letting him starve out in the Swedish wilderness. After tossing five cans of fermented herring his way he shut up. I guess I’ll start hunting tomorrow. For now it’s getting too late and I need a bit to set up the small tent. Turns out he only brought ONE sleeping bag too. Not that I mind spooning him at night but I’m still pretty pissed at him.

*

So Jim won’t allow me into the tent and sleeping bag because 'Moran, you smell worse than that three hour jog after you’d had garlic oil pasta’. Not my problem though. I end up forcing my way into the tent and Jim keeps kicking me and trying to push me out.

*

We ruined the tent. It’s too dark to tell how bad the damage is. We’re both now laying under the starlit skies, Jim wrapped up tightly in the sleeping bag like a caterpillar in a cocoon while I’m laying on the ground a few steps away. Maybe I will go and get another of those blasted cans and spray him with the juices too so we can stink together.

*

Three hours later Jim demands that I join him in the sleeping bag because he’s freezing and 'if a bear comes he’ll stay away from you and your stench’. Lovely. I can also tell he’s using earplugs now to plug his nose. Still…better in the sleeping bag than waking up with ants crawling all over my body. Tomorrow I need to find a river or a lake to wash my clothes.


	4. Moran's Travel Blog - Sweden Part 4

Thursday, 22nd June

 

Jim had a horrible night, I can tell from the way he doesn’t even talk to me but just crawls out of the sleeping bag to get far far away from me and my stench. Yes, I still smell like rotten fish. But since that was his own fault, I do not feel any pity for him as he forages for something edible in his backpack. But since Jim had the brilliant idea to only pack crispbread and cookies, that’s all we’re having. And water from the /two!/ bottles he brought. God, I pray he’ll let me handle the camping trip planning next time but I have the distinct feeling there will be no ‘next time’.

*

Now as Jim’s awake the complaining has started. I smell too much. His back is aching. He can’t have a shower. His hair is a mess. He needs fresh underwear -luckily he packed down a ten pack (instead of food, so that’s Jim for you). The sun is getting into his eyes. The forest is too noisy. The ground is too uncomfortable to sit on. And he continues like this for a good ten minutes while I ignore him. His mobile is also still not getting any signal so he knows deep inside we’re still in deep shit and that he has to groan and whine so I don’t get the chance to remind him of that.

*

I guess I’ll go hunting for a bit. The tent was luckily not ruined all the way so I set it back up, grabbed my rifle and got up, ready to leave. Maybe the rotten fish stench clinging to me will even attract something. Though… Hopefully not. I do not favour the idea of being swarmed by a pack of wolves who think I’d make a decent meal. I already lost my nipple to a tiger. I don’t want to lose my pecker to a hungry Alpha wolf.

*

Jim just decided he /needs/ to come with me. His reasoning? I’m his bodyguard so I’m supposed to guard his precious body /all/ the time. Besides if I get lost as well then nobody will come to rescue him. As if I would make the same mistake he did. Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned that though (maybe I also sounded a bit too snarky when I did), because Jim pinched my arse so hard that I ended up cursing so loudly I bet every possible prey within a five kilometre radius just blushed from my profanities and then run off. Leaving us to starve, as Jim would put it. Of course the fact I cursed is all /my/ fault, not his.

*

I shouldn’t just have brought a rifle but also a gag. Jim has been complaining about how he’s starving almost non stop now. I feel like I’m listening to a broken record.

*

Jim discovered some blueberry bushes that exist in abundance in Sweden. Luckily the berries seem ripe enough too but it’s not like my warning would have stopped him anyway. Instead he shoves berries into his mouth as if he hasn’t eaten anything in days, ending up with red fingers and a red mouth as if he didn’t eat blueberries but dug into a…

*

Imagining Jim as a cannibal and/or zombie is quite terrifying.

*

Jim noticed my stare and of course he knows what I’m thinking about so he stares back at me while licking his lips, pretending to find me really delicious. I wouldn’t mind him getting a taste of me but not in the way he’s thinking of.

*

Well, seems that my earlier shout of pain didn’t scare away the wildlife as we can watch a fox pass by in the not so far distance.

*

The fox just stopped and for a moment I thought he would turn his head to look at us and then decide to run. Instead the animal lifted a hind leg and pissed onto the blueberry bushes.

*

Ah yes, the lovely sound of your boss throwing up in a Swedish forest. It’s a truly marvellous auditive experience.

*

I think the fact that he might have eaten piss berries has started the process of Jim’s mind breaking because he’s all dramatic now as he clings to my arm and declares we’re as good as dead and that it is all my fault. Why did I have to like hunting and camping instead of leisurely spa weekends in a five star hotel? He should have known that my caveman side would get him killed one day.

*

Jim the drama queen. While there is a certain karmic satisfaction to listening to his lamentations it’s also getting old fast so I just leave him behind to find something to shoot.

*

Luckily Jim decided to stop his whining and instead he’s hurrying to catch up with me, giving me another of those 'you’ll regret this later’ glares. Most likely he decided I’m not just a beast but also a cruel bastard for leaving him behind to starve all alone instead of sharing his fate eagerly. I could tell him that 'starving with my employer in a Swedish forest’ is nowhere mentioned in my contract but I doubt Jim cares about such details.

*

Jim’s bored. How do I know? He utters the word 'bored’ almost every other minute. Luckily I found some animal tracks and can tell him to shut up if he wants to eat something else but rotten fish and cookies today. Jim looks like I offended him fatally with my harsh words but the prospect of something warm in his belly keeps him from complaining loudly this time.

*

There’s a group of deer ahead of us. I tell Jim to stay put while I slowly creep closer to get into firing distance. Luckily the wind is drifting our way and not the other way around.

*

[Jim’s edit]

Sebastian is such a rude person. Calling /me/ dramatic? Well, we’ll see who’s dramatic when we have starved in this terrible, terrible place. I really do not understand why anybody would want to leave the comfort and safety of their home which provides you with a fridge full of food, a cellar filled with wine and a /bathroom/-

I just realized, I will be forced to take care of my business behind a TREE while being watched by squirrels and other animals! That is totally unacceptable! At least I brought some extra soft toilet paper! Knowing Moran he’ll most likely wipe his arse using pine cones just because he’s such a tough outdoors man!

Ugh.

Such a brute.

The way he’s slowly creeping closer onto those dumb creatures up ahead.

All stealthily. It’s ridiculous to look at. Not to mention that this way I am forced to stare at his behind all the time.

And those dumb trousers are not the tight fitting kind so I am not even grazed with a nice image but cloth wrinkling when he moves.

He better doesn’t miss his shot though. I am so close to starvation that I swear I can feel all of my ribs and my stomach is making the same kind of noises Sebastian is making when pumping weights in the gym.

I’d even prefer being trapped there and watching him do his routine than being here in this terrible forest of DOOM!

Finally! He pulled the trigger! I thought he had fallen asleep. And he actually hit something. Not that I’m /that/ impressed. Let’s see how big the deer is and if there will be enough meat for both of us. Of course, as his boss, I need to be fed first.

I shouldn’t have walked closer. He’s already gutting the dead thing and it’s so vile to watch. He even took off his jacket and shirt for it so he won’t get it bloody and I’m totally disgusted by the way his muscles move under his tan skin. The sight is truly horrible! All the muscle and sweat and precise knife work! Ew!

I hope we can eat soon. I’m dying here.

[Jim’s edit end]

*

Jim is watching me as if he’s ready to jump me and eat me. Shit. I better hurry up here.

*

We’re on our way again. Jim’s belly is full of grilled meat and for some ridiculous reason he actually did bring a spice mix. Maybe because he was aware that surströmming, crispbread and cookies will not tide us over until our return? Who knows. Not me. I totally expected us to only eat rotten fish and bread for a couple of days. Tch.

*

Jim isn’t very fond of my sarcasm so I have to carry the meat that is left after grilling it all. Not that he needed that reason. There was no chance he would have carried it either way. I don’t know why, but he does keep offering to carry my shirt and jacket even though they still do stink a bit. Sometimes I really don’t understand how his brain works.

*

Aaand the honeymoon is over i.e. Jim is back to complaining how we’ll never find our way back and how it is all my fault and that his feet hurt and he will certainly die without his bathroom products and a shower. And how he can already feel his skin starting to develop terrible rashes.

*

We found a small pond and while I’m just too happy to dive in and wash myself and my clothing, Jim is more than reluctant. But when he realizes there are no leeches or other terrifying creatures in the water he does join me. And presses up against me because the water is so damn cold, as he claims.

*

I think we heated the water up significantly.

*

Jim orders that we stay here for the night because his feet are aching so badly and he’s too tired to walk. He didn’t seem so tired while in the water with me but I can understand why he’s tired afterwards. I don’t mind some rest though. We have another meal of deer meat and crisp bread and since my clothes smell better I’m graciously allowed to join him in the tent without a fuss. Hallelujah.

*

Maybe I’ll tell him tomorrow that I know exactly where we are.

*

*

*

*

….naw.


	5. Moran's Travel Blog - Sweden Part 5

Friday, 23rd June

I can tell Jim is getting tired of hiking and camping because he is giving me /that/ look. The one where he tries to make me feel as if I (and nature as a whole) wronged him and that he is the victim of my crazy and random desires. Ignoring the fact that it was him who brought us here. But that’s Jim for you. I guess we should pack up and try to find a way back into civilization even though I’m acting as if I have no idea where to go. Serves him right.

*

I’m not surprised that Jim declares loudly that he’ll never ever eat a single bite of deer or crispbread in his entire life ever again. With his cookies gone and the berries around too “dangerous” to eat, he acts once more as if he’s close to starvation. It’s getting old Jim.

*

[Jim’s edit]

The only thing that is getting old here is your underwear. You do resemble a bear more and more, Moran. Not just /stench/ wise.

[Jim’s edit end]

*

Glad to hear you approve of my new rugged appearance Jim. Might have to grow a full beard after all.

*

[Jim’s edit]

That’s /not/ what I meant and you know it, Sebastian! Now get us back to a place with running water! And pronto!

[Jim’s edit end]

*

We pack everything together and Jim leaves it to me to carry the biggest load before we make our way to an unknown goal. At least unknown to him. Two hours later we reach a fenced area and since I know where we are- at least I do have a hunch as I went over the Swedish map once the boat left the harbour- I suggest we walk around the fence since it will clearly lead us back to a place with said running water that Jim is craving so badly.

*

Unfortunately Jim isn’t willing to take a detour and snagged my knife and just started to cut a hole into the fence with the saw side of it. For fuck’s sake! Before I can really stop him though he slipped through it and I follow after shedding my backpack and rifle. This man is nothing but trouble sometimes!

*

I’m sure Jim just read my thoughts because the glare he’s giving me could kill a dozen men at once.

*

I think I just heard a growl in the distance….

*

Jim heard it too but he pretends everything is okay. Until the sound is much much louder. But before he can even ask me what the hell that was, something is suddenly leaping out of the nearby bushes and I grab Jim and run.

*

We somehow made it up a tree and below a pride of fucking /lions/ is prowling! Of all the animal enclosures Jim could have broken into at Kolmården it /had/ to be the damn LION ENCLOSURE! Just my fucking luck, right? And of /course/ it had to be feeding time!

*

I don’t believe it. While I hope somebody will come to our rescue soon -there are people hovering past us above our heads in cable cars, most likely taking photos- Jim keeps trying to get his signal back and is all excited when it finally works and he realizes that we ended up in a Swedish animal park. Of course reading me excerpts from the damn homepage is so much more important than calling somebody from this place to help us before we’re turned into lion chow!

*

We’re finally being rescued and I don’t know how but Jim managed to avoid that the Swedish police is called. Most likely he wrote them a cheque with a sum they simply can’t refuse. He also has a golden tongue so possibly he made them believe that it was their fault that we even got into the enclosure. Whatever he did, we’re free to go and spend the rest of the day grabbing some real food- Jim treats the pizza there like a gourmet meal- looking at the rest of the animals, buying souvenirs and then we finally, finally return to Stockholm and our hotel.

*

I guess we did indeed look a bit rugged because the concierge is trying to shoo as back out of the building before he’s told who we are. The poor man. But Jim struts proudly through the main hall to the elevator as if he didn’t spend two days whining to me about everything and wrestled a dozen bears instead.

*

Finally after a hot shower and a shave I look human again and Jim smells of every hair product the hotel bathroom had to offer. I almost faint as he walks out into the living room of our suite. Then he tosses himself into his best suit and forces me to wear one as well because he needs us to look classy as he puts it. During dinner we still get a lot of stares of those who saw us earlier entering the hotel looking like we’re homeless.

*

I don’t know how but Jim managed two things during our very enjoyable dinner together:

 

a) he managed to delete all evidence that we were ever in the lion enclosure. No news outlet is bringing this fantastic story of two dumb British tourists who almost got eaten by Simba the lion. I am properly impressed.

 

b) he managed to figure out that I wasn’t as clueless about where we were as I had let him to believe. I have no idea how he did it but something about my grin must have given it away or something like that. I’m properly frightened.

 

Because I know there will be consequences.

*

Dinner is over and we’re relaxing in a jacuzzi together. I am a bit more tense than I should be and Jim is grinning a bit wider than I’m comfortable with. He’s going to let me dangle like this for as long as possible. I guess I deserve it? Eh, I’ll survive this ‘punishment’ too.

*

Jim just mentioned he’ll put me on the 'naughty list’. I have no fucking idea what he’s talking about. Since I’m on his naughty list anyway. And I prove it by groping him in the jacuzzi until he slaps my hands away and acts all indignantly. Then he tells me I’m awful and leaves me behind. Tch. Maybe I’m luckier tonight.

*

I’m not luckier tonight. Jim bans me from the bedroom for 'reasons’ and has me sleep on the couch. Shortly after midnight though he wakes me up by smacking my face and tells me he’s freezing so I’m gracefully allowed to return to the bedroom with him. Ah yes, Jim’s sooo changeable after all.

*

I can’t stop thinking about Jim’s ominous warning. What the hell is that 'Naughty List’ he was babbling about? Ugh… Let’s hope my brain stops working on that little question soon. I need some sleep.


	6. Moran's Travel Blog - Sweden Part 6

Saturday, 24th June

 

Today is our last day in Sweden and maybe also my last day enjoying a comfortable bed and a delicious breakfast. Knowing Jim’s punishments from the past he could possibly plan to send me on a mission to…oh I don’t know…Siberia? Antarctica? Iceland? Somewhere where it is cold and where my remaining nipple will freeze off and same goes for my poor ba- . Ahem. Trigger finger. Jim just looks at me with an expression filled with pity and tells me that whatever I am thinking I’m exaggerating and that I’m being ridiculous.

*

Says the man who claimed he’d die from eating some blueberries just because he saw a fox piss on some nearby berry bushes. Or to whom no shower equals dooming his body to slowly rot away. I’m not the ‘Drama Queen’ in this partnership, Jim.

*

Jim just told me I’m being way too dramatic and that I should get dressed and join him for breakfast instead of acting as if he put a gun to my chest and forced me to marry h- Oh yeah. Fuck you, Jim. You’re enjoying my suffering way too much already.

*

Our first stop after having breakfast is the central train station of Stockholm. From there we are taking a train which is heading to the north west. Jim packed himself a lunch package which he gracefully shares with me because I was smart enough to buy two coffees from the restaurant compartment of our train. If I didn’t know that the end of this travel would be when my suffering will start I could almost enjoy this. The Swedish landscape /is/ really beautiful after all. All those tiny red houses…

*

Oh sod it! I’m going to enjoy the travel no matter what! Jim is busy with his mobile which leaves me time to consider writing my memoirs some day soon. And maybe go on another hunting trip here some day. But further north. The most dangerous animal we came across in the forest were those lions which are /not/ native to Sweden anyway. And the second most dangerous creature had been Jim.

*

We finally reach the city of Mora somewhere in a part of Sweden called Dalarna. A quick google check tells me that they produce this little red wooden horse- a souvenir Jim most likely will bring home in a variety of sizes and colours- and that this place in particular produces knives. But if Jim was to buy me one that wouldn’t be much of a punishment, now would it? So my hopes on acquiring a souvenir I would find useful are thoroughly crushed.

*

We’re taking the bus now. Hm. I really wonder where this is leading to. I mean, yes, the build up is half of the fun for Jim but I am way too relaxed by now to even care to act as if I’m worried in the least. That part seems to make him a bit miffed but Jim is a master of not letting emotions betray him. Usually. Unless he’s excited. Or really frustrated. Or tired. Or hungry. Or…

*

The bus stopped somewhere in the middle of nowhere and Jim nudged me out of my seat and outside to the bus stop. We’re not going on another hiking trip are we? No way. Unless Jim has somebody else drop by to only pick him up while leaving me here all alone and without supplies. Silly Jim. I’m a master at survival. And I would even eat the pissberries to survive.

*

Wait… There is a building on the other side. A large wooden house like structure though it reminds me of an entrance to some amusement park. The sign above it reads 'Tomteland’. Since I do not speak Swedish I have no idea what this is about. Weird. There’s something on top of the building. Looks like a group of deer pulling a….

*

……….

*

Tomte is the Swedish word for Santa. We’re in Santaworld. In the frigging summer. Jim brought me to a Santa themed adventure park. He can’t be serious! There’s NO way I’ll set foot inside that place!

*

I set foot inside the place. Mostly because I have no way of getting back since Jim somehow managed to lock me out of my mobile. So I’m stuck with him and that wide grin of his. I could just wring his neck! But instead I grin and bear it as we make our way through the large park, passing houses and other places with scenes from Swedish folklore. I believe that Jim just dragged me here because there are Troll figures hidden between the trees so he’s literally trolling me.

*

We’re having lunch together in a large house and I enjoy some potatoes and salmon with a side of Swedish Christmas Carols. I think this Christmas I’ll get Jim a CD set containing Christmas songs from all over the world and have them play on repeat while he’s tied to the Christmas tree. Or would that be too cruel? At least the food isn’t too bad.

*

So we just passed Santa’s sleigh and have entered his 'home’ where he collects all the letters he’s being sent and writes down people into his Nice and Naughty books. Now I get why Jim came here. He suddenly whips out a marker, then climbs the display although people are staring and one person tells him he shouldn’t do that -not a Swedish person though. They all just stare silently. Guess they hate being pulled into anything troublesome. Jim doesn’t even listen however and tries to grab the Naughty book from the shelf to open it and then proceed to write my name into it.

*

Christ, my boss can be so childish.

*

Fifteen minutes later we’re escorted out of the premise. Maybe I shouldn’t have climbed after him and tried to wrestle the marker from his hand. And maybe we shouldn’t have started throwing books and other props at each other. Also we might have used a few words not suited for the ears of children. Possibly I also shouldn’t have pinned Jim down to the ground after he drew a marker moustache onto my face. In any case we need to get back to Mora so Jim tries to call a cab, just glowering at me that I ruined his revenge.

*

On the whole travel back to our hotel Jim hasn’t spoken a single word with me. And while I feel he’s overreacting a bit and that this whole thing wasn’t all my fault, I do not like the silence even though in theory I should enjoy it because it means Jim will not plan anything else. To my great relief. Sweden is nice but it is time to get back home. Right?

*

I might have an idea….

*

[Jim’s edit]

I have no idea what Sebastian MorOn is planning but I am not happy that our cab isn’t taking us to the airport and instead is headed to the outskirts of Stockholm. I’m not in the mood for his games and whatever he has in mind to surprise me will fail anyway because he lacks the finesse and the eye for detail. I just hope that whatever we’re doing at wherever we’ll end up will be over quickly so I can continue to ignore him in the plane and at home.

*

Okay. I will admit that for the first time in his life Sebastian managed to do something /right/. Not that I’ll show him I’m impressed with his choice of location. It might get to his head. But I am considering talking to him again.

[Jim’s edit end]

*

Jim can’t stop talking and he explored every part of our Japanese styled room. I knew that picking this Japanese Spa near Stockholm might get him into a better mood again. Yasuragi- that’s the name of the place- doesn’t just have a really nice view over the ocean from a large upper balcony that almost goes around the entire building- but it also serves Japanese style food, has a nice Sake bar that I definitely will try out tonight and, best of all, little hot pools you can sit in outside in the forest and just relax.

*

Maybe reminding Jim of our little mishap with the monkeys in that onsen in Japan wasn’t the smartest of ideas because he then claims the only monkey he can see is me. But since I am already seated in one of the stone pools, enjoying the hot water I’m too mollified to really care about his insult. And Jim seems to feel similar because he scoots closer to me, still sitting on the ledge of the pool, obviously ready to suggest some…activities we shouldn’t really follow through with us being out here in plan view of others.

*

Jim changed his mind. By the time he finally sat down in the hot water, he realized that its temperature might boil his best parts should he remain in here for too long so he just stews in it for a few minutes before sitting on the ledge again, only his feet still in the pool. Poor Jim. Tragically stopped from naughty activities by evil water.

*

I think I wouldn’t mind ending all our travels like this: Sitting on a large couch on the balcony, sake glass in one hand, the other resting on my boss’ side as he lays there curled up aside me, both of us looking out over the ocean as the sun goes down. I’m not a guy for the romantic shit but…this is nice. Really nice. And the way Jim looks at me I think he’s agreeing.

*

PS: He did buy me a Mora knife.


End file.
